


the cure for darkness

by rohannie



Category: Dorohedoro
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Pining, light gore, noi is an angel, shin is so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rohannie/pseuds/rohannie
Summary: Shin deserved that darkness.He deserved everything, and he deserved the fact that he knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Relationships: Noi/Shin (Dorohedoro)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	the cure for darkness

**Author's Note:**

> whew forced myself to write something non-jjba for the first time in months. shinnoi is the only straight couple w rights

Frankly, being a butcher was not an easy job. 

Shin, over time, had become a pretty good actor. He found it decently easy to put on an easygoing grin after jobs, to swap jokes with Noi over huge plates of food. To be fair, she was an easygoing person herself, and a great one to swap those jokes with. Her brash quips and raucous laughter could probably cheer almost anyone up. 

And, honestly, Shin enjoyed his job, to say the least. Not that many people could say that killing people was quite therapeutic, but for him it was an outlet of sorts. Maybe it was the adrenaline, the burn he felt in his muscles after a winded chase or the soreness of his arms after, you know, swinging his hammer over and over again until it drove through the thick bone of someone’s skull. Maybe it was the comradery, having the ability to do something that meant something with someone who meant something to him. Or, maybe, it was just the gore. Maybe the pained expression on a person’s face as their life slipped away, or the blood that he had to wash out of his dress shirts more nights than he didn’t, or the satisfaction of seeing his Smoke slice someone up into perfectly salami-like pieces while they cried in pain and begged for mercy. 

That wasn’t to say it didn’t take any sort of toll on him, not in the least. Yeah, those bloody, pink aforementioned salami slices could be nice to look at, but the words they spoke, the ways they sobbed and pleaded for their lives, that stuck with him. They echoed in his head when he was alone, and sometimes when he wasn’t. He remembered people’s faces. It didn’t really matter, at the end of the day, that they were often bad people. They were people. Similarly, it didn’t really matter at the end of the day that killing people was Shin’s job. He still killed people. 

As much as it was able to get under his skin, Shin still sometimes wondered what had changed in order to make hurting people, killing people, and what was often just pure cruelty, cathartic for him. Even though it’d been a bit lonely, growing up with just his father, it wasn’t to say he wasn’t happy. Especially before he’d learned that he was a Smoke user, he was a relatively carefree child. Nothing was ever perfect, but rarely were there times bad enough to cut deep into his memory- that is, until the incident. 

It was an honest mistake, many might think, but to Shin it was the source of all the darkness that gripped his heart on the inside, that wrapped around him in vile tendrils, threatening to suffocate him at any given moment. He couldn’t blame his mother for falling in love; no, it was Shin’s fault, fully and entirely Shin’s. He told himself often that he might as well have killed his father. Because it was so utterly his fault. He could’ve easily been more careful. He should’ve. Shin’s father had worked so hard to protect him his entire life, when, really, it should have been the other way around.  _ Shin _ should have known what would happen should the militia find out he was a Smoke user.  _ Shin _ should have considered the consequences.  _ Shin _ shouldn’t have cut himself doing the same damn job he’d done every damn day for years on end!

But he deserved it, he thought, even though his father of all people didn’t. Shin deserved that darkness. He deserved the indescribable, heart-wrenching agony of watching his father be murdered. He deserved every bad thing that had ever happened to him and far, far, more. Because by letting his own stupid secret out, by being careless, he’d committed such an unforgivable act of what he believed with full conviction was pure evil. He deserved everything, and he deserved the fact that he  _ knew _ it would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

People were supposed to get over such things, especially people like Shin. He couldn’t really pinpoint how experiencing cruelty had led him to act with cruelty himself, but he knew for a fact that this was where he developed those acting skills that often came in so handy. He didn’t want to show weakness, and more desperately, he didn’t want to show that darkness that wanted to consume him. Well, he didn’t want to show it to Noi. Because she thought the world of him, for reasons Shin could never comprehend. 

Sometimes, when he felt able to go a bit easier on himself, it was her. If he had a shot at redemption, it was through Noi that he would be able to achieve that. She really, really thought the world of him, looking up to him and trusting him unconditionally. Once in a while he let himself believe that if he could become the person that she thought he was, things might change. For this reason, he just wanted more than anything to hide the darkness from Noi more than anyone else. But try as he might, she always seemed to see right through him. 

It was terrifying, in a way, like he was living in an X-ray machine. Sometimes Shin would let his mind wander on a job and he could feel her eyes on him, somehow aware that he wasn’t really there. He’d been alone for so long that sometimes vulnerability seemed like the worst possible outcome. It was always… uncomfortable, at first. The sensation of having someone else just  _ know _ \- know what felt like  _ everything _ \- was odd at the very least. But as time passed, Shin became more complacent with it, if slowly. It’s always strange to come face-to-face with an entirely new sensation, and this was no exception. The warmth, goodness, even, that enveloped Shin when Noi was around felt almost prickly in the beginning. Suffocating, in a way. But he came to love it, like a child loves a favorite blanket. It wasn’t prickly or suffocating as he’d once thought. It was just warm, soft, a sort of care and unconditional love that he thought maybe, just maybe, could exorcise the darkness that resided deep within him. 

It was always there when he needed it, because she just knew. When he’d wake in a cold sweat, gasping, from one of the recurring nightmares that plagued him like a chronic disease, it was always there. When his legs felt solid enough, Shin would let them lead him to Noi’s room. A soft knock on the door always seemed to suffice, even though he was fully aware how deep a sleeper Noi could be. He’d walk over to her in the bluish darkness, let her wrap her strong arms around him and rest her chin on his head. No words needed to be spoken; the warmth of her presence was more than enough. Sometimes he’d allow tears to silently roll down his face. It moved something within him to the conclusion that vulnerability couldn’t be as bad as he’d once thought it. As terribly as those nights started, they’d end with Shin feeling truly safe. 

It was almost heartwrenching to him that he’d never expressed any sort of gratitude for those nights; for the kindness or hospitality or purity that Noi showed him. There weren’t words. But Shin thought that maybe words weren’t exactly needed here either. She knew. They spoke a lot, sure. Most of what consolidated their bond, though, wasn’t spoken. It was just there, so he never spoke of it. On the mornings after these nightmares he’d give her his normal groggy hello, and she’d beam at him with a greeting far too enthusiastic for such an early hour. Nothing ever changed between them, but it was the most comforting sort of stability Shin could imagine. 

  
  


“Noi,” He blinked heavily, glancing up from his plate. She looked up at him mid-chew, mouth obscenely full of whatever the hell she was eating today. Whatever response she made was lost between them. 

Shin’s heart felt odd; oddly full and high in his chest, beating quickly like he was anxious, but he knew it wasn’t that. It was unfamiliar, but not terribly so. He could live with that kind of unfamiliar. 

“Ah, it’s nothing.” 

It didn’t have to change. 


End file.
